


You're Gonna Like Me

by youaresunlight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boyfriends, Demon Dean, M/M, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youaresunlight/pseuds/youaresunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas attempts to save Dean's soul, and his kiss almost does, but the new Dean won't go away without having some fun first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Gonna Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fill for a [prompt](http://whiskyandoldspice.tumblr.com/post/93038388587/cas-thinking-he-can-save-deans-soul-and-saying) based on the season ten preview shown at Comic Con.

“Dean...” Cas’ voice is barely above a whisper but the sound echoes off the linoleum floor, the austere brick walls. The hallway is so quiet that he can make out the displaced flicker of a light bulb, its life slowly draining. Feeble, he thinks ruefully, much like his own grace. There’s a chill in the air and Cas shivers a little, squaring his shoulders.

“Dean,” he tries again, voice now on the verge of breaking from frustration, because Dean is merely staring back, blankly, without any indication that he’s heard him.

Cas steps closer to peer into Dean’s eyes, which are that warm shade of green again, capable of brightening up even the dreariest of days. Cas could feel thoroughly shattered and tormented yet one look from Dean and it would be like grass catching falling rain, steadfast and silently there to mend the broken pieces. He dares to lift a hand to Dean’s face, palm cupping his cheek, and feels the relief flood through him when the other man leans slightly into the touch.

“Please, Dean. I know you’re in there,” Cas pleads, bolder this time. “You can fight this.” He studies Dean’s every response for a sign that he’s getting through, ignoring his instincts that there is something off about the eyes. Too much mischief, not enough tenderness.

 _No_ , he brushes the doubts aside. This is Dean. Dean Winchester whom he saved, rebelled for, died for, loves. His Dean. He _has to be_ because Cas doesn’t know how he’d cope otherwise. Hesitation still threatens to creep into his mind so Cas decides to do the one thing that can push it away; he drops his hand to clutch the collar of Dean’s shirt and tugs, hard, closing the short distance between them, crushing their lips together.

Dean stumbles a bit from the momentum but his fingers find Cas’ hips to steady himself, their firmness nearly bruising. Cas whimpers, grasping for purchase on the maroon fabric covering Dean’s strong chest, eyes prickling from tears at how much he’s missed Dean and his kisses that have always been a little frantic, an repercussion of their living on borrowed time.

His soft moans are amplified in the wide space and Dean quickly becomes impatient, blindly grabbing at the open ends of Cas’ trench coat to bring their bodies close. Every nerve seems to flare under the heat bleeding through their clothes and Cas loses himself in the sensation, pressing back for more contact and pouring all he has into the kiss.

“It’ll be alright,” he murmurs against Dean’s mouth when they break apart to breathe. “I’m here. We’ll figure it out. I promise.” Their eyes lock once more and Cas allows himself to be hopeful at the familiar hue and the gentleness behind them.

“Cas...”

Cas’ eyes widen in disbelief. Dean is calling his name, fondly, with unadulterated affection, and smiling like he used to, like there’s no one besides Cas in the entire world and, god, it’s _him_.

“It’s you,” Cas marvels, heart surging. He gazes down at Dean’s hands, which have reached out to carefully encircle his wrists, and the only response he can manage is, “Thank you, Dean... Thank you for coming back to me.” He glances up, “It will all be okay n-”

Cas startles, his whole body jerking with the force of it. He struggles to pull back but Dean’s previously light grip has become a vice around his wrists, holding them tightly like shackles.

Dean’s eyes are black.

Cas shakes his head, lips forming ‘no’ but the word getting caught in his throat. The darkness he sees in those eyes is so opaque and ominous that it makes him ache.

Dean’s mouth curls in a cruel twist. “Thought you almost had him back, didn’t you?”

Cas composes himself to level the demon with a glare. “Don’t get too comfortable,” he warns, voice tight, menacing. “You won’t be around for long-” he’s cut off by a harsh gasp exploding from his own chest, the motion so abrupt and sudden that he fails to register what’s happened until he’s shoved brutally against the wall behind him.

Dean takes advantage of Cas’ disorientation to pin his wrists to the cold cement. “Oh yeah?” he sneers, voice still Dean’s but the tone all wrong. “No, you might want me sticking around.”

Cas barely has a chance to narrow his eyes before Dean’s lips come crashing down on his like an attack, jarring and possessive. It’s a rough tangle of tongue and teeth and Cas groans, trying to fight him off, but his fading grace is no match for the demon’s strength. He screws his eyes shut, infuriated by his weakness, and desperately wills his body to not respond because this isn’t Dean. Not his Dean.

When Dean finally tears his mouth away it’s with a rumbling laugh, smug and satisfied by the sight of Cas trapped so helplessly in his arms. He tips his head forward until his ragged breath is hot against the shell of Cas’ ear, and laughs again at the instinctive arch of the angel’s body.

“You’re gonna like me,” Dean growls, “'cause I got hell of a lot more running through me than just demon juice,” he nips at Cas’ earlobe and chuckles low and filthy at the stifled moan he gets in return, “and, baby, you’re about to learn what that means.”


End file.
